for him to do, as a great many things are not which one both can do, and
would like very much to do. So Mr. Grimes touched his hat to him when he
rode through the town, and called him a "buirdly awd chap," and his
young ladies "gradely lasses," which are two high compliments in the
North country; and thought that that made up for his poaching Sir John's
pheasants; whereby you may perceive that Mr. Grimes had not been to a
properly-inspected Government National School.

Now, I dare say, you never got up at three o'clock on a midsummer
morning. Some people get up then because they want to catch salmon; and
some because they want to climb Alps; and a great many more because they
must, like Tom. But, I assure you, that three o'clock on a midsummer
morning is the pleasantest time of all the twenty-four hours, and all
the three hundred and sixty-five days; and why every one does not get up
then, I never could tell, save that they are all determined to spoil
their nerves and their complexions by doing all night what they might
just as well do all day. But Tom, instead of going out to dinner at
half-past eight at night, and to a ball at ten, and finishing off
somewhere between twelve and four, went to bed at seven, when his master
went to the public-house, and slept like a dead pig; for which reason he
was as piert as a game-cock (who always gets up early to wake the maids),
and just ready to get up when the fine gentlemen and ladies were just
ready to go to bed.

So he and his master set out; Grimes rode the donkey in front, and Tom
and the brushes walked behind; out of the court, and up the street, past
the closed window-shutters, and the winking weary policemen, and the
roofs all shining grey in the grey dawn.

They passed through the pitmen's village, all shut up and silent now,
and through the turnpike; and then they were out in the real country,
and plodding along the black dusty road, between black slag walls, with
no sound but the groaning and thumping of the pit-engine in the next
field. But soon the road grew white, and the walls likewise; and at the
wall's foot grew long grass and gay flowers, all drenched with dew; and
instead of the groaning of the pit-engine, they heard the skylark saying
his matins high up in the air, and the pit-bird warbling in the sedges,
as he had warbled all night long.

All else was silent. For old Mrs. Earth was still fast asleep; and, like
many pretty people, she looked still prettie